


Victories Are Better Together

by SerenityXStar



Series: Battle at the Museum [3]
Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: A touch of fuzziness, An attempt at talking about feelings, Jedediah being slightly smart, Kinda, M/M, Not tooth rotting though, Octavius being slightly stupid, handjobs, sex in water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityXStar/pseuds/SerenityXStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Jedediah took a perverse kind of pleasure at the utterly dumbfounded expression on Octavius’ face just before attempting to kiss the breath out of him, even more so at cutting the general off the same way he had been himself.  More than once.  Octavius was a rigid statue beneath him, frozen with shock and indignation.  But when his lips finally parted, Jedediah pressed closer.  Until Octavius bit him.'</p><p>Sequel to Battle Tactics and Retribution</p>
            </blockquote>





	Victories Are Better Together

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote it! I have the fine people who commented to thank for that, and of course those that left kudos as well. You're all awesome. I knew how I wanted the third part to end before I'd written the second. Hopefully people like it. I think it wraps things up nicely, but also leave room for more, should I even feel inclined to add.
> 
> I gave Jedediah a semi-dirty mouth. Because this isn't a family movie. And it would sound good in his voice. Mm. ANYway, please enjoy! Kudos are always loved, and comments even more so. Suggestions are welcome as well!
> 
> Also, a shout out to Lady Day (day221b) and their crazy, super awesome fic Lightning in a Bottle. I totally encourage you to check it out. It gave me motivation to start this little miniseries, though mine is far inferior. *Bowbow*

The air was warm, misted faintly with the vapor that gently rose and curled from the water. It couldn’t be described as hot, but it was just warm enough to steam in the cool museum air. 

The lone occupant of the room undressed slowly, almost wearily, clothes carelessly dropped into a pile at the pool’s edge. Even if the posture hadn’t been a sign, the sloppiness would have.

Kicking the last bit of cloth aside, Octavius carefully stepped into the water. It was built in the typical Roman style and he sank gratefully to sit on the stone bench along the side, submerging to his chest. He couldn’t help but heave a deep sigh, letting his eyes fall closed.

It had been nearly two weeks since his… encounter with Jedediah. And he hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of him. There had been battles between the Romans and the Wild West people. But their unofficial leader was never to be seen. And without him, the skirmishes somehow seemed… empty.

There had been more drills than usual for his men, and himself, and while the extra physical work helped to keep his mind from the cowboy, it was beginning to wear on them all. Not to mention, as soon as they took a break, his mind immediately turned back to his compan- partn- nemesis.

It was added stress, worrying and wondering where and when Jedediah might pop up. What plans he was likely scheming. Trying to keep his mind elsewhere yet watching every moment had him exhausted. 

Their diorama was built to look like a Roman city, with columns and avenues, training spaces to showcase the army and soldiers. But an overambitious decorator had created a small bath, akin to the public baths of Rome. It was a modest pool within a columned chamber, simple, the water displayed by semi-translucent blue lacquer. Like the museum inhabitants, it ‘came to life’ at night.

It was an uncommon addition, as it wasn’t even really visible to visitors. Octavius had never been more grateful and had claimed the small bathing chamber for himself, intending to soak the stress away.

Settling a little deeper into the water, he closed his eyes, letting the warmth begin to sooth the tension in his back and shoulders.

~*~

Cowboy boots were not made for stealth, Jedediah quickly realized. The heels clicked far too loudly against stone. And the spurs. While their chiming usually went unnoticed by himself and the West’s residents, used to the sound, it was far too obvious here. He’d actually had to resort to removing his boots altogether and carrying them.

It was better than being discovered though.

Despite the usual care the Romans took with security, posting sentries and patrolling their perimeters, it had been surprisingly easy to slip in. The closer he got, the warier he became, but the majority of the soldiers seemed to be gathered in the diorama’s open ‘coliseum’ area, sitting or, in some cases, sprawled on their backs across the ground. They looked tired. And definitely not on their guard.

Jedediah had to stare for a moment, but shook his head, continuing onward, slowly and silently making his way towards the building he’d seen Octavius slip into. Alone. Finally.

He had one close call, just before making it to his ultimate goal, one sentry apparently keeping to his post. But the man had been obviously tired, eyes heavy and focus elsewhere. The cowboy had simply snuck behind him and then on, into the building.

It was warmer here. Jedediah looked around quickly, searching, but it was empty. A hall led back into the recesses, unadorned and quiet. He frowned, walking farther in. The Roman had to be in here somewhere... A doorway sat at the end of the antechamber.

Jedediah peeked through. There was… a pool? A steaming pool. Must be a bath then? He seemed to remember something, in the far back of his mind from history lessons as a boy, about Rome and its baths. Of course Octavius would have one.

He managed to keep from rolling his eyes. He could just make out a slumped figure on the pool’s far end, partially obscured by the rising mist. So, alone and not paying attention. Perfect.

Glancing back the way he’d come, Jedediah quickly slipped from his clothes, leaving them in a heap outside the bath room. It didn’t look like anyone would be coming this way, and that suited him just fine.

He slipped silently into the main room, pausing for only a moment before stepping into the water, careful not to splash. It was pleasantly warm, sliding up his skin like a caress. The water came up to his waist, settled there and, letting out a soft sigh, he began walking towards the room’s only other occupant, eyes steadily fixed on him.

~*~

Octavius was nearly dozing. The water was a comforting, warm pressure around him, cradling his tired body, working at reliving some of the aches that had begun to wear on his sanity. All was silent in the room. Until he heard a sigh.

In his unfocused state, he nearly ignored it. Was it his own? He wasn’t sure. His men knew not to bother him, if any were still conscious. Perhaps he’d been a bit hard on them… as an unofficial apology, he’d given them the rest of the night to themselves.

Must have been his own then- A ripple in the water. Coming towards him. An impossible angle for him to create himself. Suddenly Octavius’ mind, trained as it was to strategize and make lightning fast decisions during battle, snapped into focus, his eyes flying open. Just in time to see Jedediah bearing down on him. _In his bath_.

He didn’t have time to move, to call out before the cowboy was on him, pinning him back to the bench he was sitting on, a thigh on either side of his own, a hand on each shoulder. Which were back to being a tense, knotted line. Though there was a little relief in finally seeing Jedediah, no longer having to try to anticipate an attack that had, until this moment, never come.

“What-!”

The word was barely out before Jedediah’s lips were against his own, fierce, consuming, _demanding_.

Jedediah took a perverse kind of pleasure at the utterly dumbfounded expression on Octavius’ face just before attempting to kiss the breath out of him, even more so at cutting the general off the same way he had been himself. More than once. Octavius was a rigid statue beneath him, frozen with shock and indignation. But when his lips finally parted, Jedediah pressed closer. Until Octavius bit him.

 _Hard_.

Jedediah pulled back with a shout and a curse, a hand automatically curling into a fist, itching to sucker punch the bastard. “God _damnit!_ ” He barely resisted the urge.

Octavius lifted his hands to grip the cowboy’s upper arms, ready to shove him, push him _off of his lap_ , perhaps call for a guard, or just attempt to drown him himself. Jedediah spoke before he had the chance.

“It doesn’t always have to hurt!” Jedediah was tentatively touching his lower lip, glancing at his fingertips to make sure he wasn’t bleeding, furious blue eyes flicking back to the Roman’s after.

“What?” Octavius found himself somewhere he was rather unaccustomed to. At a loss.

Voice low with anger, Jedediah gritted the words out, giving Octavius’ shoulder a little push. “It don’t always have to _hurt_. You started this thing. During a fight. But that don’t mean it _is_ a fight. Ain’t you tired of it yet?”

He couldn’t possibly mean what he though he did. Octavius blinked slowly, brain screeching and grinding, trying to switch from ‘We’re being attacked! Shore up the ramparts, call the lines, fight to the last man!’ to ‘Jedediah is suggesting what now?’ and it wasn’t working well.

Because he was tired. Tired of everything. Useless battles and power struggles that gained neither of them anything but new scrapes and bruises. He sighed, leaning against the stone ledge at his back, his grip all but going slack.

“ _What_ doesn’t have to hurt, Jedediah?”

Jedediah huffed out an exasperated breath, lifting a hand to shove it through his own hair, dampening and slicking back the blonde strands. He gestured with it after, indicating the two of them.

“ _This_. This thing we’re doin’ now.” Should he call it sex? It wasn’t _technically_ sex… Frustrated, he leaned in again to press a kiss to the Roman’s lips, lighter and quicker than the one before, illustrating with action.

“But- We’re enemies.”

“Why?”

Octavius frowned. “We both must expand!”

Jedediah shook his head. “Ain’t nowhere to expand to.”

Objectively, Octavius knew this. But it was the _principle_ -

Lips against his own once more, and they were firm and strong and somehow soft at the same time. They were very convincing. And Octavius was so very tired. He mentally threw up his hands. He pulled Jedediah closer and opened his mouth to the cowboy and suddenly it was a battle of another kind.

Jedediah could almost feel the moment that Octavius gave in, stopped arguing and thinking and trying to make excuses. He counted it as a victory, and then promptly forgot the score. His tongue met Octavius’ and they were tangling and rolling, sweeping. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, but neither was it the brutal, hungry thing their first one had been.

Callused fingers traveled downwards from Octavius’ shoulder, exploring a firm chest. Those fingers were surprisingly dexterous, Octavius hazily noted, twirling around his nipples, gaining a shiver from him, and then drawing a groan as they carefully scratched over his ribs.

Jedediah couldn’t help but grin, effectively breaking the kiss, but staying close, his nose brushing the Roman’s in a gesture that was almost sweet, a counterpoint to the heated trails he was blazing down the other man’s stomach. One hand found Octavius’ cock, clearly interested, and he gave it a careful squeeze ‘hello’. As much as taking his time and actually learning Octavius’ body sounded like a fun evening, it had been weeks since he’d last had attention, and years since it had been something other than their twisted fumblings. And his body _wanted_.

Octavius arched up into Jedediah’s hand, groaning, suddenly desperate for this simple pleasure. His hands left Jedediah’s arms, one curing into the fine hairs at the back of the cowboy’s neck, keeping him close, the other dropping to find Jedediah’s own neglected length, hard and eager under his touch.

The hiss and press of hips into the attention he received were rather gratifying.

“Jupiter…”

“Jedediah.”, Jedediah corrected, grinning at Octavius’ breathy chuckle. He moved his hand, no teasing tonight, fisting over the Roman’s cock, the water letting his hand slide smoothly.

He matched Jedediah’s pace, tugging lightly with the hand in the cowboy’s hair, pulling his head back enough to get at his throat. Perhaps tonight they were going for something more personal, not power and pain. But that didn’t necessarily rule out a bruise or two, of a different sort.

Octavius latched his mouth to Jedediah’s throat, nipping, then soothing the small sting with his tongue, sucking at the captive skin, more possessive with each pump of the other man’s hand. He groaned in response to the moan he earned, breaking away to breathe heavily against the abused skin only after he was sure it would be left marked.

Jedediah jerked against the Roman, into his hand, closer to his mouth; he knew there was going to be a spectacular bruise on his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. In fact, the thought of being able to look at it, later, had a grin twisting his lips. He was tempted to duck his head, press his mouth to Octavius’ neck, leave him a matching brand, but he swiped his thumb over the head of the cock in his hand instead and Octavius shuddered.

He grinned wider.

“Yeah? Like that, ‘tavius?” His voice was low and rough with arousal and pleasure, wavering when Octavius’ reply was a tightening of his fist.

“Mm, fuck… _yeah_ ya do.” He repeated the motion, concentrating his attention there, gliding in shorter, faster strokes over the tender, silky skin. “Gonna come for me? Fall apart in ol’Jedediah’s hands?”

Octavius gritted his teeth, growling raggedly. He could; was going to. But not before Jedediah gave in to him. He sped his hand, long, thorough stroke from base to head, just a little rough, and it had the cowboy pressing in tighter against him. He lifted his head, catching Jedediah’s lips in a heated kiss, a pressure neither of them could hold, breathing as they were, and they simply ended up panting into each other’s mouths.

A twist of Octavius’ wrist and a swipe of Jedediah’s thumb and they were both arching, broken cries mingling as they came, neither one able to say who had fallen first. 

It was too good to care.

Octavius fell back first, slumping once more against warm stone, Jedediah relaxing a moment later, his head falling to rest against the Roman’s collarbone. They both simply drifted, getting their breathing and heart rates back under control.

It was the Roman who spoke first, breaking the near silence and bringing them both from their sated dazes. “You took quite a risk, coming here.”

Octavius hadn’t moved, so Jedediah figured this wasn’t him getting kicked out. He peeked up with one blue, blue eye, loathe to give up his comfortable position. “No more’n you, comin’ to my place.” Octavius had lead with a fist; Jedediah understood and dismissed that his opening may indeed have been riskier. “S’worth it.”

It left Octavius quiet for a moment, and he finally shook his head. “You are a confusing and unpredictable man.”

“Ya wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t.”

He couldn’t actually argue that. “I must admit, that is true. What now, then?”

“Sleep.” The answer was immediate, nearly broken by a satisfied yawn.

A yawn Octavius very nearly echoed. If Roman generals yawned. “And after?”

“Roll with it. Take things as they come. You got enough clout with yer people. You can do what’ya want.”

“And what do I want?”

“Me.” It was a simple answer, cheeky. But, damnit, Octavius couldn’t argue that either.

He sighed heavily, but couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips when Jedediah lifted his head to press a light, fleeting kiss against them, reclaiming his place after. He slid both of his arms loosely around the Roman’s waist, languid with satisfaction.

Octavius looped his own arms around Jedediah’s back, fingers splayed proprietarily. Take things as they came, hmm? Very well. Slipping towards sleep, warm and with a warmer body in his arms, that sounded… nice.

~*~

There was some concern by younger guests, the next morning, when two of the most important figures in the Wild West and Roman dioramas weren’t seen. The tour guides assured their charges that the figures were probably just in their cleaning rooms, receiving a little extra attention since they were so popular. The Museum wanted all of their displays to look their best, right?

Dr. McPhee hadn’t been nearly so sanguine as he stared Larry Daley down. “Well?”

“They’re not lost!” Larry had tried for his most disarming grin. It didn’t seem to be making much headway, but he plowed on anyway. “They probably just got knocked a little out of place. I’ll totally find them. I’ll check everywhere else just to be sure. They’ll be there tomorrow.”

“See that they are.” McPhee gestured between them, eyes narrowed, likely attempting to look fierce. “I’ve got my eye…” He trailed off.

Larry stared at him until it was clear the doctor wasn’t going to finish. “..on me?”

“Yes, this is on you.” McPhee turned and hurried away, griping at some scattering children as he made for his office.

Larry sighed. He knew they’d be back that evening. If they weren’t, then he’d worry. But with the weird tension between them lately, he was definitely not going looking for them. There were just some things he didn’t want to know.

~*~

Within one of the buildings, in the Roman diorama, settled into a pool of clear, blue lacquer, were two small figures, molded together and waiting for the night.


End file.
